


Constant Companions

by fangirlSevera



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fix-It, Fluff, Kittens, M/M, Pets, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, loss of pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:36:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4101160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlSevera/pseuds/fangirlSevera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James finds a cat and her new litter of kittens on Kingsman grounds.</p>
<p>Harry thinks it's a fortuitous find, since Merlin's dog recently passed away and surely he's in need of a new pet. Merlin is not immediately convinced.</p>
<p>Just utter fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constant Companions

**Author's Note:**

> From tumblr prompt by by [maplesyrup-asylumprep](http://maplesyrup-asylumprep.tumblr.com/): Younger!Merlin (35-40ish y.o.) gets a kitten after his Doberman passes. Flashforward to present with Merlin and his senior cat waiting for Harry to wake up.
> 
> Fic begins circa 1999, then flashforwards to post-movie. There's a sprinkling of Percilot mixed in.

 

Merlin was trying to focus on the circuitry for the his new holo-display  prototype, but Harry was making a nuisance  of himself. It was  all  under the pretense  of  "cheering him up" despite Merlin's insistence it was unnecessary.  Harry, having gone through the loss of a pet three years prior, and having been quite torn up about it, did not believe him.

"The death of a long time companion, even an animal, can have a deep affect on one's psyche . And I know how much Smervie  meant to you."

Merlin shoved his glasses up his forehead and rubbed at his eyes with thumb and forefinger.  "You're the last person I'd come to for healthy coping tactics when dealing with the death of a pet." He turned his chair around and glared at Harry who was leaning against the opposite wall, arms and ankles crossed.

Harry lifted his chin. "I have no idea what you could mean." His posture took on a sulking bend, but at least he stopped talking.

Merlin swiveled back to the work bench. He adjusted the arm of the magnifying glass and picked up his tools just when the door was thrown open and their young Lancelot, James,  burst  in. "Boxes!" He declared, chest heaving. He was in running clothes, red-faced and covered in sweat.

"I beg your pardon?"

"James, you're forgetting yourself," Harry scolded.

James shook his head, hair falling over his brow and sticking. "Sorry. I am sorry, but this is a matter of some urgency. And I know Merlin has boxes from all his computer parts. Ah!" 

He scampered over to the corner of the room where indeed Merlin kept a stack of empty cardboard boxes. Never knew when they'd be of use. 

"What the devil are you doing?" Merlin demanded as James dug through the stack, scattering boxes around the floor. 

James grabbed one and bolted from the room without another  word. Merlin and Harry  stared at the closed door, then turned to each other with raised brows. They moved as one, and followed James out the door.

They chased James down the hall, but he already had a decent head start on them. Percival, dressed in exercise clothes was coming from the opposite direction. "James! I was just heading to the gym myself! I-" 

James ran straight past him, snatching a towel out of Percy's hand without stopping. "Thanks, love!"

"What-" Percival began as Harry and Merlin reached the spot he was standing agog.

"We don't know!" Harry confessed, not breaking stride.

The sound of a new set of pounding feet rang through the hall as Percival began to follow them all. 

James led them clear across the lawn, past the large K, finally sliding to a stop by a cluster of shrubberies. Merlin and Harry slowed their pace to a walk. By the time they caught up to him, James had the towel lining the box, and he was on his knees reaching under a bush.

"Not that we're not appreciating the view," Percival said, a bit out of breath. Needed to be put through his paces again it seemed. An active field agent ought to have more stamina. "But would you care to explain yourself now?"

James shuffled back and in his arms he was holding a fat,  grey tabby cat. She was growling, ears back, back legs kicking, but James kept his grip. He managed to get her struggling form into the box. "I was out for a jog." He ducked back under the bush, muffling  his next words. "I heard some strange noises, and," he sat back on his heels, "came across these chaps." In both hands he held a wriggling kitten, their eyes barely open. He set the kittens down next to their mother. Having a couple of her babies by her side again, she began to calm down.

"You could have just said, 'I found cats,' at any point," Merlin accused as James pulled out two more mewing fluff balls.

"Sorry." James smirked, chagrined. "All I could think was: Hurry! And box!"

Percival had gotten down on the ground and stuck a hand in the box. Delighted, he started to giggle. 

Merlin rolled his eyes. Fortunately Arthur was in London, otherwise he'd be the one having kittens if he saw his men's behaviour .

"You know," Harry began, watching the younger agents with amusement. "I know it's no replacement for a Doberman..."

"No, Harry."

James, having rescued all six kittens, hefted the box in his arms and stood. "We ought to get this lot to a doctor."

Merlin nodded. "Then to an animals charity."

James frowned and clutched the box tighter to his chest. "Why can't we keep them?  What about that bloke who was around for the puppies? Had to pump my Peggy's stomach." Princess Margaret, James' Cocker Spaniel, while extremely loyal, was not the brightest dog and had occasion to eat things she ought not.

"We're not keeping them here," Merlin clarified. 

James didn't pout, but it was a close thing. "I better go change then," he said, handing the box off to Merlin.

"I'll come with you!" Percival said.

"To London, or to change?" James asked with a saucy wink.

"Could be both."

James and Percy eagerly ran back to the mansion, leaving Merlin and Harry alone with the box. A constant cacophony of mews and chirps and unnecessarily loud purring was coming from it. Merlin gazed down at the squirming mass of fur. They were so tiny. Small pink noses twitched, beady eyes squinted in the sunlight, twig-like tails trembled . The mother's  tongue dragged across any fuzzy head that came close to her mouth.

Harry stroked the only ginger kitten between its stubby ears. It raised its head, sniffed at the fingertip and proceeded to nip and lick at him. 

"It thinks you're mother." Merlin smiled, not unmoved by the container of adorableness in his arms.

"That makes you father, then."

"No." 

"Yes." Harry scooped the kitten out of the basket. It didn't even protest. Harry held it up to Merlin's face. The kitten stuck out its petite, pink tongue and gave the end of Merlin's nose a lick. "We should name it Lollipop. Lolly for short."

"You're ridiculous." But he didn't say "No" again.

James took them to the veterinarian, and later to his own home where he kept all six kittens and their mother (dubbed Snowden) until the litter was old enough to go to new homes. James kept Snowden.

"Her and Peggy have been getting on quite well, you  know."

And Lollipop ended up in Merlin's hands where she remained, even sixteen years later.

She was curled up on Merlin's lap, sleeping, which she was doing more of even by cat standards. She hardly played with her toys anymore. Maybe once a week she'd bat at a stuffed mouse, then quit only after half a minute. Then sleep. Her hearing wasn't what it used to be, her eyes were cloudy with cataracts. At the last check-up, Merlin was told she had arthritis in her hips.

She was an old cat. And like everyone else, getting older.

Plus, she wasn't the only one spending most of their days asleep. Harry had been discharged from medical, but his recovery was far from complete. The bandage over his left eye and temple obscured that side of his face from where Merlin sat next to him on the bed. Harry was still too pale, too thin, too slow. It had been miracle he had survived at all, and Merlin was holding on to that miracle with white knuckles, lest it be taken from him. 

The looming question was whether he'd be fit for action again. How long would he be able to bat at his toys before exhausting? And how would Harry handle leading such a life?

"I can feel you brooding," a gruff voice said. 

Both Merlin and Lolly's heads lifted up. Harry was still laying there, his lips turned up in a knowing smirk. Lolly, in  an  increasingly rareburst of energy, leaped from Merlin's lap and stood on Harry's chest.

"Good morning, or rather, afternoon," Merlin said.

Lolly pawed around in a circle about a dozen times before finally settling and purring atop Harry. Harry raised a hand to pet down her spine. "Hello, my love."

Merlin snorted. "Are you talking to me or the cat?" 

Harry turned his head, seeking Merlin out with his good eye. "Are you seriously asking me if I love my husband or my child more?"

"Cat," Merlin reminded him, "and an old one at that."

"If she's old, what does that make us?"

"Still not too old to die young."

"Maudlin  doesn't suit you."

"If I didn't have a reason to be, I wouldn't."

Harry huffed and tugged on Merlin's sleeve. Merlin understood the signal to slide down, press himself to Harry's side. He joined Harry in petting Lollipop who purred louder at the extra attention. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a senior cat myself. A ginger tabby who is 18 years old! 
> 
> I've been desperately trying to sneak the line "Still not too old to die young" into a Harry/Merlin fic for some time. It's a lyric from "Figure 8" by Ellie Goulding.


End file.
